Page 35 of The Virgin Duchess

She was about to turn when Frederick stopped her. “Keep facing forward, sweet Charlotte, and lay back against me on the bed.”

Confusion and intrigue warred in her mind. She ducked her head, staring down at herself as Frederick gripped her waist and helped her to sit down on the bed in front of him. His legs split, and she could feel hardness press against her lower back and hips.

Oh, God…he is…

Frederick leaned her back against his chest, and there she could feel the furious pound of his heart, the way he took large sips of air. His arms wrapped around her front, going for the fabric that clung to her shoulders. Pushing it down, Frederick revealed more of her flesh.

“God’s mercy, Charlotte,” Frederick ground out, “just the sight of you…”

Her skin flushed, heat swelling so much inside her that it was sure to ignite the clothing they both still wore. As it was, Frederick pressed the layers that covered her shoulders further down until the cap sleeves of her gown were shoved to the center of her arm along with the steps of the stays beneath it.

The thought of how much more difficult this would have been for Frederick had she been wearing a day dress flitted across Charlotte’s mind. So much of her chest was already exposed due to the low neckline of the gown, and without much effort at all, Frederick stripped away the fabric that covered her breast, revealing her to the air—and his hungry stare.

She couldn’t see his face now, however. Did he still wonder at what he saw? Was there a flare of disappointment?

“Ugh,” he groaned, taking handfuls of her breasts and running his thumbs across her peaked nipples.

“Frederick,” Charlotte gasped, the sensation utterly bewildering.

The swirling, devious delight and scandalous impropriety of being groped like this made Charlotte feel as if she were drunk. She was still fully clothed, the fabric only shoved out of Frederick’s way so that he might touch her. It was outlandish and shocking and…incredible.

Her breasts rested perched on the bunched fabric, and then Frederick dropped a hand to her thigh, using his fingers to gather the fabric of her long skirt, exposing inch after inch of her legs. Frederick’s touch continued to roam over her body, gripping and grasping at her breasts, her waist, her throat. Each slight maneuver of his was this primal act of seizing her body for his own.

And God, how Charlotte adored it.

The fabric of her skirts reached her hips, and in a painfully slow dance of fingers against flesh, Frederick walked his touch to her core. Slick anticipation clung to her skin, and there was the slightest brush of his fingertip against her seam. Charlotte’s hips bucked, and Frederick squeezed her tighter against him, not allowing her to go anywhere.

“My sweet,sweetCharlotte.” Frederick reached further over her hip from behind her, ghosting his touch over her slit from bottom to top. “I have craved this, hungered for it like a starved man.”

She whimpered against his touch, his words. Frederick flicked against the very tip of her core, and lightning rushed through her nerves. Charlotte twitched, her muscles clamping down as the sensation lit her up. It was indescribable, this magic of movement and touch. She wanted to cry from the sheer intensity of it all.

Still, what Charlotte wanted most of all was more, more of everything Frederick was doing to her, more of that lightning beneath her skin.

“Frederick, please, I…oh God…”

He chuckled behind her, slipping his digit between her folds where the arousal pooled. “It is a veritable delight to hear you pleading for me, Charlotte. I shall never get enough of it.”

The bud at the tip of her seam tingled, and Charlotte was consumed by heat. Her cheeks burned, and there was nodenying the things she said or felt. Mortification threatened to pull her into the great beyond, but every flick of Frederick’s fingers brought her right back to earth.

He teased around her entrance, tickling touches landing on her skin instead of the firm touch her body demanded. She rocked her hips against Frederick’s hand, rubbing herself up and down across his fingers. That dreadfully gorgeous chuckle of his bloomed behind her once more, and Charlotte bit her lip to keep from screaming.

“Do you want more, darling? Do you want to feel me inside you?”

Charlotte reared back against him as Frederick pressed firmly against her bud. The pressure was intense, making her legs shake, but yes, she was desperate to feel him within her, filling her with his fingers that played her body so beautifully—an instrument at his beck and call.

“Yes,please.”

It was a beg, and part of Charlotte hated herself for that. The rest of her didn’t care in the slightest, hungry enough for the sensations that it was willing to do anything to get them, whatever Frederick demanded of her.

“God,” he whispered in her ear, “I love to hear you plead for me.”

And then Frederick sheathed his fingers inside her. Charlotte gasped, and it bled into a moan as the incredible feeling offullness settled into her. Frederick’s thumb continued to brush against her tip as he moved in and out of her in a pointed rhythm. It was slow and deep, but it wasn’t enough. Charlotte needed him quicker. On instinct, she rocked her hips, sliding herself against his touch. The slippery arousal streamed from her, and that wildfire in her blood soared higher into the sky.

“That’s it, dearest. Fall apart for me.”

“Frederick,” Charlotte wined, “please. I need more…faster.”

He adjusted behind her, crawling around to the front of Charlotte without stopping the magnificent work of his fingers. She looked up into Frederick’s gaze, her eyelids heavy with lust and need. Her husband smirked, his eyes traveling down the length of her body until they stopped right where he touched her.

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